


Trying To Get Past This

by jacksonwng



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Although Derek couldn't help it, Children, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Future Fic, Infidelity, Kid!Fic, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Pack Feels, Pregnancy, Stiles struggles to adjust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:39:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksonwng/pseuds/jacksonwng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek may be the alpha, but he wasn't born that way. He's an omega and when he goes into heat while he's away on pack business, how was he supposed to resist? And now, he has to deal with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying To Get Past This

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this prompt:
> 
> _A/B/O dynamics. Derek has been hiding the fact that he may be an Alpha now, but biologically he's an Omega. When he goes into heat and is taken by another wolf, he gets pregnant. He comes home to Stiles (established relationship would be awesome) and what happens next when Derek is carrying another pack's pup?_

Derek came into the house feeling…dirty, and used and guilty. He closed the door carefully behind him and his grip flexed around the handles of his duffel bag. He could hear Stiles moving about in the kitchen, filling the dishwasher Derek guessed from the clanging and he knew that Stiles usually had the pack around when he was gone to fill the silence in the house, and the familiar sound made his chest tighten.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to confront Stiles, not after… He forced his legs to move forward, slowly nearing the kitchen. Stiles walked past the open door, halted and did a double take. Stiles beamed at him, stepping into the hallway.

“You’re back,” he commented.

Derek strained a smile in return. “Yeah, I…hello,” he greeted.

“How was it? Do we have another ally?” Stiles inquired.

“Uh, yeah, it seems so,” he answered.

“That’s a good thing right?” the human stepped a little closer, sliding his hands up Derek’s chest and locking them at the back of his neck, “Because you don’t sound very happy about it.”

“No, I am happy. It’s good. It’s good.” Derek repeated the words almost as if he said it enough times, it would be true.

“Did anything happen while you were down there?” Stiles tilted his head curiously.

_Hot, so hot, shaking, can’t cope, can’t see, everything haze, just…_

_Hands fall onto his stomach and seemed to just make everything clearer_

_Wrong but so right_

_Whining, spreading his legs, lifting up, wanting, needing, desperate to be taken_

Derek shook himself forceful from his thoughts. Stiles’ face, concerned and confused, hovered so close to his, and his stomach churned again with disgust at what he had done. He tried to smile again.

“No, nothing happened,” he responded, “Well, nothing beyond the usual boring pack negotiations and stuff. I’m just…I want to take a shower, get all those plane smells off and then sleep.”

“…Okay,” Stiles nodded understandingly, “Whatever you want…”

His hands began to slip away and Derek panicked, lurching forward to press their lips together. Stiles made a noise of surprise but kissed back, his hands floundering a little before settling awkwardly.  When Derek pulled away, Stiles’ expression was…well, worried probably but he smiled anyway.

“Now, I missed that,” he commented, placing another chaste kiss on Derek’s lips, “I’m glad you’re back. Now,” he pulled away, “Go, shower; sleep.”

Derek nodded and immediately followed the man’s orders. He entered their bedroom, and couldn’t help but smile fondly at their unmade bed. Stiles knew made a bed. Derek wasn’t sure why, it was just the one thing that never crossed the man’s mind.

He entered slowly, uncertain. He supposed he thought that being here again, after, that it would feel different, wrong, uncomfortable, and the fact that it didn’t just seemed to make everything worse. It should be different, it felt different. The room, their room, should reject his presence for what he had done, but no, it was just as still and judgemental as it ever was.

He carefully shut the door behind him and dropped his bag at his feet. He wanted to sit down, his legs seeming too weak to support him properly at the moment but the thought of touching their bed when he was like this, when he could still smell sweat and sex and someone who was not Stiles, made his stomach churn and he headed straight for the bathroom.

The water ran cold at first in the shower, but Derek didn’t care, just stood beneath the fall and let it soak in and freeze his bones. He deserved it. The water heated up slowly and he reached for his loofa and he scrubbed. He scrubbed first with water, and then with soap – Stiles’ soap instead of his own, because that’s the scent he needed to surround him. He scrubbed until his skin had gone pink and healed back to bronze. He scrubbed until he ached, until it hurt, but Derek could still smell him – on his hips, on his neck, on his arse, on his cock. All the places that Stiles had once touched and now…

Derek shuddered, biting down on his bottom lip, and rubbed at his swollen hole harder.

It had been a mistake. He had never meant for it to happen, but it did and now he didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with it.

Derek was never supposed to be the alpha, not just because that position was supposed to go to Laura, but because he was born with another job within the pack entirely. He was an omega, not like the lone wolves that travelled without pack, slowly losing their minds, but the men and women whose purpose was the bear children, to strengthen and expand their packs. It was all he had known and when he had become alpha, he just forced all those teachings aside, because he had bigger things to worry about. The kanima and his betas and Peter coming back, and then the alpha pack and the human sacrifices. The only time he was ever reminded was when he went into heat, no longer part of cycle but at random times, on random days. There was no sequence to them anymore.

At least, that’s what he kept reminding himself, as if that made anything better.

He’d gone into heat while he was away, forming alliances with the other packs in California and the surrounding areas. It had come on so suddenly, he hadn’t been able to prepare the substitutes that were needed and then, Henry had shown up on his doorstep, eyes blown and hard and ready, and he just…

 _You rolled over_ , a voice mocked him, _like a bitch_

Derek had woken up in the room he had been residing in at the Franklin pack’s house, with the alpha’s son in bed with him. He could only remember the night in flashes, but it was enough. The only thing that seemed to make the situation any better was that Henry shared his feelings of horror at what they had done. He had put distance between them, apologising over and over again, and cursing himself for not having enough control.

“You’re not supposed to be able to resist,” Derek murmured his reply, “That’s the point.”

“You’re a guest in my father’s house, and you have a mate and just,” Henry clenched his eyes shut, “I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t either of our faults,” Derek tried to assure, although the words sounded empty. All he could think about was Stiles, what he was going to say, what he was going to think when he found out.

 _That you’re weak_ , the voice sniped at him, _that you can’t even control yourself for one night and you betrayed the man you love_

Derek could just the look on Stiles’ face when he’d find out, the disgust and the hurt and god, Stiles would never trust him again. Maybe he’d think Derek had just used his heat as an excuse to get fucked by the admittedly attractive alpha’s son.

Stiles would leave, he’d never come back and Derek…

He couldn’t find out, Derek decided, staring at himself in the steamed up mirror in the bathroom. Stiles couldn’t find out. Derek just…he wouldn’t tell him. _To protect him_ , Derek nodded, _to protect us_.

But Derek was never that lucky.

Stiles would find out and it would be in the worst way possible.

He’d known before it became obvious that something was wrong, he’d just been ignoring it, hoping that that feeling was wrong, because this couldn’t be happening. Not this.

But, when Derek was vomiting his lunch into the toilet bowl, his throat raw and his stomach twisted uncomfortably, he knew there was no other explanation. And Stiles knew it too.

“Werewolves don’t get sick,” he stated from where he was sitting just behind Derek. His hand was running in a soothing way up and down Derek’s back, but if anything, it just made it worse. Why did Stiles have to be so _good_? He didn’t deserve him.

“Derek, werewolves don’t get sick,” Stiles repeated, the worry seeping into his voice even more.

“No…they don’t,” Derek agreed hoarsely. He moved back to settle uncomfortably onto the back of his legs, and Stiles adjusted so he was pressing against Derek’s back, chin resting on his shoulder.

“So what is this?” he inquired softly, “Is it a branch of wolfsbane? Where you attacked with something?”

His throat suddenly tight, Derek shook his head in a negative.

“Derek, tell me, what’s wrong?”

Stiles’ voice was so soft, so understanding, but he knew it wouldn’t be for long. Because this just proved it, didn’t it? What he had known for weeks now. It wasn’t just his imagination, a leftover feeling from what had happened. This was real, this was happening. He was-

“I’m pregnant,” he blurted the words out, harsh and fast, just wanting to get it out there and out of the way. He waited with bated breath when Stiles’ hand stilled.

“Preg…” the word trailed off, “How?”

“It’s only possible when I go into heat,” he admitted lowly, “It’s the only time when I’m fertile.”

“But you haven’t been in heat for six months,” Stiles laughed a little forced, before he feel silent. Derek could hear the cogs turning in his head as he connected the dots, as if figured it out. “Unless…” the hand on his bag withdrew slowly.

“You went into heat when you were with the Franklin pack…” Stiles stated, his voice low and emotionless, and even though it wasn’t a question, Derek felt like he should reply.

“I’m sorry.”

“You spent your heat with someone else,” Stiles said, accusation slipping into his voice. “Who?”

Derek licked his lips. “…His name is Henry. He’s the alpha’s son.”

“Right…” the silence between them as deafening before Stiles spoke again, “Did you want it?”

That’s what made Derek turn around. He spun on his feet to look Stiles in the eye. The man looked so lost and hurt and uncertain of how to react, that it made Derek’s chest tighten and the urge to look away was immense, but he had to say this. “No,” his voice was firm, “I would never…I didn’t want to. I just…I couldn’t stop him. I don’t remember most of it and we both freaked out after it had happened and agreed to never speak of it again. I didn’t expect…”

“You didn’t expect to be having his baby,” Stiles finished for him.

Derek reached out to touch him and Stiles recoiled away. Derek was sure the heartache was showing on his face just as much as it was Stiles’, who forced a watery smile.

“I understand Derek,” he murmured, “I know what you’re heats are like, you can’t stop yourself. You just want someone to…” he swallowed around the word and refused to say it, “But I can’t…” He stood up sharply and backward, his eyes darting around the room but refusing to land on Derek, “But I can’t have you touching me o-or…I’ve got to go. I need to…”

Derek didn’t say anything, no matter how much he wanted to. What was there to say? He had cheated on his mate. He’d let another man fuck him, and now he was pregnant with their child. What words could make this better for either of them? So he stated silent and watched, helpless, as Stiles walked away from him. He heard the jingling of keys, the movement of fabric, the gentle thud of sneakers on the wooden floor and the door slamming shut behind him. He heard the crunching of gravel, the opening and closing of the car door, the twisting in the ignition and the engine rumbling to life, before Stiles pulled his jeep out of the drive way and disappeared down the road.

And, when he was completely alone, Derek allowed himself a few moments to cry what could have been before he had to focus on what needed to be done.

*

Stiles didn’t even realise where he was driving to until he ended up on the doorstep, and there was a half asleep Allison answering the door, a confused look on her face.

“Stiles, what are you doing here?” she asked around a barely suppressed yawn.

Stiles glanced down at his watch and winced in sympathy. It was late, about one am, and well, since Victoria Melissa McCall had arrived, they needed as much asleep as they could get. Guilt settled into his stomach and he took a step off the porch.

“I’m sorry, I woke you up – I’ll just…” he didn’t know how he was supposed to finish that sentence.

Allison looked at him with concern. “What happened?”

“I…Derek, he’s…” the word formed in his mind but his mouth refused to make the sound, so he ended up just gapping desperately.

Allison, the angel that she was, didn’t question him, just opened the door wider and ushered him into the building, into the living room. She settled him on the sofa and then said the words that filled him with relief, “I’ll go get Scott.”

Stiles sat in silence, fiddling with the ends of the t-shirt, and just tried to process everything. Derek was pregnant, he was carrying a child…someone else’s child. That made his stomach clench angrily, his hands curl into fists and tears burn in the corner of his eyes. To anyone else, finding out there partner was having another man’s baby, this would be a natural response, but did it really apply to Stiles?

Derek…his heats had been erratic for as long as they had been together and sometimes Stiles would have to call work on the day, with Derek rutting pathetically against his leg, to take sick leave. It was lucky he hardly ever actually got sick, or he might be out of a job.

And Stiles knew how the heats were for Derek – hot hazes of arousal and want and pain and just the need to be filled. He had liked the think that Stiles was only like that for him but…he was out of his mind during these times. Stiles had to believe that he wouldn’t have done it if he could control himself. If he thought anything different, he wasn’t sure how kept together he could be.

Scott stumbled into the room then, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes and trying not to make too much noise. He yawned once before his eyes zeroed in on his best friend on the sofa. He smiled slightly. “Hey, what’s-“

“Derek’s pregnant,” Stiles blurted out.

“Wait, what?” Scott sounded confused, his brain whirling as he tried to figure out exactly how that could happen before, Stiles guessed, he conceded he was too tired to fully understand and just grinned. “That’s amazing Stiles, congratu-“

“It’s not mine,” he interrupted again, his voice lower and his eyes dropped to stare into his lap. He pressed his knees together, “The baby…it’s not mine.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Stiles snorted.

“Do you know who it is?” Scott moved slowly to take the seat beside his friend, sliding his arm around the back of the sofa.

“Yeah, some alpha’s kid from when he went to secure allegiances,” Stiles ran a hand over his face, “He went into heat and…” he shrugged, before looking at Scott, feeling just lost, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Scott automatically moved so he was hugging his friend close, and Stiles clung to the fabric of his shirt. Scott always gave the best hugs. There was something about the fact he actually cared about everyone that just…it made him feel a little more grounded, a little more able to think.

“It’s late, let’s…let’s talk tomorrow, when it’s not just happened. Give yourself sometime to let the news sink in, okay?” Scott muttered into his ear, and Stiles nodded in quiet understanding.

They fell asleep against each other, worn out from the day, and didn’t awake until eight am when Allison came down the stairs, balancing the three month old on her hip. She fussed about with the coffee maker and then Victoria’s milk, before going to wake them up. Scott shared a tired kiss with his wife and Victoria squeaked happily at the presence of her favourite uncle.  Stiles smiled at her, even though he didn’t feel like it, and hugged her close, inhaling that baby smell that he loved.

It brought back a stark reminder of why he was here, and once again, he wondered what he was going to do. Would he walk away? Could he even do that? He loved Derek, he loved Derek so much, and the idea of leaving him made a lump of anguish rise up in his throat.

But could he stay? Could he actually be there while Derek carried and gave birth to someone else’s offspring? And what would he be? Daddy’s partner? The step-father? Just a lodger that Daddy sometimes has sex with?

And what if Derek decided that the best thing was to move to where the real father was? What if he wanted a family unit with this Henry? What if Henry changed his mind after he found out about the babies and wanted to play happy families? Where would that leave him?

He closed his eyes tightly and tightened his grip on the baby. Victoria made a small noise of surprise and then frowned before patting his cheek in what he assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Stiles pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Remember Stiles,” Allison said over breakfast, “You can stay as long as you want. I can set the spare room up for you – it’s much more comfortable than sleeping on this one,” she gestured towards Scott, “I would know.”

Scott made a noise of objection and Allison kissed a grin to his face, and Stiles tried not to feel like the fourth wheel in this family circle.

He had planned just to stay for a few nights, a week at the most.

But nights turned into days, into weeks, into months.

It had been four weeks since he’d last spoken to Derek, one month. He had tried to go back after the first week, but he had panicked and hadn’t been able to bring himself to just walk forward and go into the apartment, so he had stalled. He had waited. He had ignored the worried looks shot in his direction by Scott and Allison, ignored Derek’s calls and tried not to cry at the voicemails at night. He hated himself for this and all he wanted to do was go to Derek and curl up with him, but all he could think about was that baby. That innocent kid who had no idea what trouble its presence was causing. The baby that wasn’t his. He…he just couldn’t bring himself to get passed that. He wished he could, but he just couldn’t.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Scott announced one day, flopping on the armchair, eyes narrowed, “I know I’m your friend and I’m supposed to be there for you and whatever, which I have been, but this is too much. You need to see Derek. You need to sit down and talk to him and try to work something out. It’s not just affecting you now, it’s affecting the whole pack.”

Stiles felt a surge of anger. “I’m sorry my relationship problems are causing you all pain,” he spat out.

Scott groaned. “You know what I mean Stiles. Derek, he’s a mess…did you ever sit back to think about how he felt? He had sex with someone else, yeah, but he couldn’t have stopped it. And now he’s pregnant and alone while the man he loves won’t even go back to pick up a change of clothes.” Stiles glanced down at himself and his new clothes a little sheepishly. He had gone a bit extreme with the not really wanting to see Derek thing. “He thinks you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him,” Stiles announced loudly.

“Obviously, or you wouldn’t be here moping on my couch,” Scott rolled his eyes. There was quiet for a moment, “He had a scan a few weeks back, did you know?”

Stiles did know. The voice mail message had told him as such. He didn’t answer though and Scott got closer, pulling something out of his back pocket and setting it onto Stiles’ lap.

“Isaac gave it to me,” he continued, “He thought maybe you would want to see them.”

“Them? Twins?” Stiles looked at his friend and then cautiously down at the ultra-scan photo. He didn’t dare touch it, but shifted his legs so he could see the black and white image better. It took a while to decipher but once cracked, it was obvious where everything was. The two heads, the two sets of arms and legs, the curves of their spine and he could even see their eyelids. Two little babies, innocent children, fully formed for only being two months old. His heart pounded in his chest.

“Yeah, look at the name on the picture,” Scott advised.

Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to, but he did as instructed anyway. His eyes slide the bottom corner of the image and what he saw made his eyes water. The typed words – ‘THE STILINSKI-HALE TWINS’ – seemed to stick out so obviously, so brightly, as if they were trying to tell him something and Stiles just couldn’t think. Why would Derek do that, after everything, after so long of Stiles running?

He croaked out the word “why” and Scott smiled sympathetically, clapping him on the shoulder and squeezing. “Because, no matter what happened, Derek will always think of these two as your kids.”

Stiles swallowed, his eyes drifting back to the paper. His kids. But not his kids. “But I’ll know they’re not, I’ll know what happened,” he swallowed, “Scott, how am I supposed to raise children who aren’t mine?”

“…I don’t know,” Scott admitted, “But are you willing to risk Derek for something you may or may not be able to do?”

*

Derek was used to being alone. After Kate and the fire, he had withdrawn. All he had needed in his life was Laura. He had grown used to relying on the presence of one person – it was just…now that one person was Stiles, and he wasn’t there. Derek understood, of course he did because Derek was sure he would have reacted exactly the same way if it were the other way round. The feeling of betrayal would outweigh the understanding.

But that didn’t mean that this, the absence, the completely disconnection from Stiles didn’t hurt, because it did, far more than he could ever have thought possible. Maybe it was his hormones, he would tell himself at night, when the loneliness was just too much and he would reach for his phone and weep down the phone for Stile to come back and hold him.

Not he ever did.

For all Derek knew, Stiles was deleting the messages before he’d even listened to them.

“Stiles would never do that to you,” Isaac had told him when Derek had muttered it to himself. “He cares about everything you have to say, you know that.”

It was the certainty behind Isaac’s words that had kept him sane, that he was sure of. The beta had found out about the pregnancy a week after Stiles had left. He had been worried when Scott had mentioned that Stiles was still sleeping in their spare room. Derek and Stiles fought like anyone else in a relationship but the being away from each other only lasted a couple of days before they couldn’t stand it anymore. It had been Isaac who had listened to Derek’s story, who had stroked his back through the morning sickness and had done endless amounts of research with Deaton to try and find a way to help. It was Isaac who had been with Derek during the ultrasound and it had been Isaac who worked out that he was carrying twins.

Although Derek hated the show of weakness in front of his pack, he felt a surge of pride at how Isaac had grown. Even through everything that had happened, everything he had been through, he was still there and caring and determined to make things good again.

And Derek needed pack more than ever now. He remembered the endless amount of nesting and puppy piles that he had to do as a child when Emily, his cousin and when Jennifer, Peter’s wife, had been pregnant. He was still a child when Jennifer was having her own baby but by the time Emily was there, he was nearly a teenager and had declared publicly that he was too old for cuddles now. His mother had always forced him to join in anyway, trapping him between her and Peter so he couldn’t escape, but he never really understood why they were so important until he was here now.

The contact with pack was like scent marking the baby, preparing the child for coming into the world and introducing them to the family, to the people that were to take care of them. Boyd had started to drop by more often when he found out, but his hours were chaotic and really the only time he had to be around was at night. More often than not, Derek would wake up to Boyd asleep in pressed against his stomach (and drooling, although his beta would deny that accusation until the end of time). Scott had even been around, smelling of Stiles, updating him on how the man was doing but was never able to give Derek anything to settle the longing in the pit of his stomach. The hugs helped though, smelling of pack and Stiles. As for Erica, she was still abroad and he didn’t expect her to rush home for him, although she claimed she would if she needed him.

The majority of conducting pack piles fell down to Isaac, although it didn’t seem as if the beta minded. Like now, they were curl up together on the sofa and Isaac would let Derek press against his front, covering him, and would run a comforting hand over the rapid swelling of his stomach as he watched this movie or that TV show.

But of course, it was moments like this, when he felt safe, that he allowed himself to think.

“Do you think I made the right decision?” Derek asked lowly.

“Hmmm?”

“In keeping the pups? Do you think I made the right decision?” he elaborated.

Isaac paused. “Is this about Stiles?”

“I don’t know…maybe,” Derek admitted.

The beta sighed heavily behind him and Derek felt the nuzzling at his neck. “Listen to me. This isn’t about Stiles. This is about you and these babies. If you think you can do this, if you can be a parent, then yes, Derek, you made the right choice. Stiles…he’s just thinking selfishly at the moment, he’s having trouble dealing with this, but you know what he’s like, he’ll be back soon enough. He will.”

Derek swallowed. “What if he never comes back?”

“Then he didn’t deserve you in the first place,” Isaac responded quickly and honestly.

Derek wished he could believe that.

He opened his mouth, words forming in the back of his throat, but they died quickly at a familiar scent that was slowly making its way towards the front door. He would know it of course, it had been something he’d been desperately trying to surround himself with for weeks now. He tensed and look a little fearfully at Isaac.

“Stay here,” Isaac instructed and, before Derek could object that he was an adult damn it, the beta had struggled out from behind his alpha and made his way to the door a moment after a loud and steady knock echoed around the apartment. Derek didn’t have to strain to hear their conversation.

“Stiles,” Isaac greeted coolly when he opened the door.

“Isaac,” Stiles sounded nervous and uncertain, “Um, I need to see Derek. I know he’s here, the car is still in the drive.”

“What makes you think that Derek wants to see you?” Isaac shot back.

The human fumbled for words. “I don’t…”

“It’s been weeks Stiles, he’s…”

“I know. I shouldn’t have run off like that, but I just…I needed to _think_. I needed to try and get over… _that_.”

“And are you?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted, making Derek’s heart clench painfully, “But I’m going to try and be.  Isn’t that good enough?”

“For now,” Isaac conceded, “I’m going to do a food run, let you to…talk.”

Derek could hear the shuffling of feet, knew that it was Stiles stepping into their home and Isaac stepping out. And then the door shut and he waited with bated breath as Stiles hesitantly shuffled his way into the front room. Derek pushed himself to sit up as much as he could – he was going to face Stiles for the first time in ages when he was lying on his back - his legs crossing awkwardly and his hands moving to rest instinctively into his lap. Stiles peeked his head around the door and smiled nervously, his eyes dropping automatically to the swell of his belly, and the smile wavered a little at the edges. He swallowed and forced his eyes away.

“Hi…” he greeted lamely.

“Hi,” Derek responded with just as much uncertain of how this should go as Stiles was.

“Um…is it okay? That I came here?”

“Yes,” he nodded quickly, “I…I didn’t think that you would come back.”

“I said I would.”

“Yeah, weeks ago.”

Stiles visibly winced. “Yeah, I know…I just…” he ran a hand over his face, “What did you expect me to do Derek? I know you couldn’t have stopped it, I know, and I understand, but you slept with someone else, and you’re having their babies. A-and I don’t know what you expect me to be to them.”

“I want you to be their father,” Derek said lowly.

“But they have a father. A biological father,” Stiles reminded him, “Fuck, Derek does he even know?”

Derek looked down and that was all the answer that was needed.

“You haven’t told him?”

“I don’t want him to know. Not if I…” _not if I lose you._

Stiles could see the indecision flashing across Derek’s face and suddenly, he understood. Sighing, he moved to see at the end of the sofa. He kept his eyes on Derek.

“You need to tell him, he…he deserves to know,” Stiles swallowed around the words.

“But I want you to be their father, you…you’re the one that should be…”

“I’m not though, not really anyway. Henry is. I would want to know.”

Reluctantly, Derek agreed. “What about us?” he asked lowly.

“I know only two thing for certain,” Stiles started, reaching out to touch the man’s hand. Derek clutched at the limb tightly, as if afraid he would disappear again should he let go. “I know that I love you and that I can’t bear the thought of not having you in my life.”

“So what do we do?”

“We try and move forward, I guess. As much as possible anyway.” He squeezed the hand, “We’ll be fine,” he declared as confidently as he could.

*

The conversation with Henry went a lot better than expected. Derek was thinking there would be some announcement that it wasn’t true or a demand that, if it were true, he would have to leave his pack and move into Franklin territory. Instead, there had just been a shocked silence, a question of “are you sure?” before he made a promise to be in Beacon Hills as soon as possible.

And by as soon as possible, he meant a few hours later because that’s when Derek opened the door to see Henry standing on his doorstep, a duffel bag in hand.

“I got here as soon as I could,” was the offer of explanation, given absentmindedly as Henry couldn’t seem to draw his eyes away from the bulging stomach. He swallowed a little and strained a smile, “I guess it’s true then.”

“We should probably have this discussion inside,” Derek responded, opening the door wider and stepping back for the man to enter.

Henry stepped in hesitantly. “Is your mate not in?”

“Stiles is at the store,” he replied lamely, and silently wished that the man would hurry back. He really didn’t want to have this conversation alone. But he was an alpha, the authority figure, and he wasn’t about to back down and show a weakness, whoever this man was to him. He walked with a strong stride into the living room and politely told the wolf to sit, before taking a seat himself.

“So…you’re carrying my pup,” Henry offered awkwardly to begin the conversation. No pleasantries, which was exactly what Derek needed. He just wanted this out of the way.

“Pups,” he corrected, “Twins.”

Henry breathed out slowly and ran a hand through his hair. “Right…” he gave Derek a pleading look, “I am sorry, about everything. I didn’t even…when I smelt your heat, I should have just locked myself in – o-or locked your door, tried to protect you. You’re a guest and I….I took advantage and now you’re…”

“Like I said before, it wasn’t either of our faults. And there are worse wolves in your pack that could have scented and claimed me, no offense.”

“None taken. My father is rather liberal with who he accepts into his pack.” He leant forward onto his knees, “I just want to say…I’m not going to be like them.  I don’t plan on demanding you leave Beacon Hills, your pack, your mate behind to come and stay with me. This is the 21st century, there are other ways of dealing with this kind of situation. I just…I want to be a part of their lives.”

Derek nodded slightly, feeling a little vulnerable. “Good. Because I wouldn’t. Leave my pack or my mate. We’ve been through so much together that I care about them far more than I care about stupid traditions. I’ll be honest, I didn’t – I don’t want you around. Stiles, he…he had trouble adjusting to the news and I refuse to put him through that again. But he’s the one that told me that you needed to know, and I’m just doing what he thinks is best…and you seem like a genuinely nice guy, regardless, so I won’t refuse you. We could split their time between this pack and yours?”

Henry shook his head slightly. “It seems…illogical. The first few months, the pups wouldn’t be able to leave you and then in a few years, they’ll be starting school and it’s just too complicated. I was thinking I could…move down here?”

“Move?” Derek repeated the word surprised.

“Yeah…I mean, I’ve still got years before I’ve got any responsibilities to my pack and even then, I want my kids to come first. And then this way, I can have them on weekends or in the evenings and there’s no stress. It just…it seems like the better option,” he gave a small shrug.

Derek was uncertain. He didn’t really like the idea of Henry walking around town, a constant reminder of what had happened between them, but he could see the merits. It was a better option, at least for now. Derek wanted to dislike Henry, it would make things easier, but the alpha’s son was a nice person. He was trying his hardest to deal with the situation that neither of them wanted nor expected to arise, anyone could see that. Henry was putting trust and power in him to make a decision and Derek felt he should return that favour somehow.

“Do you…do you want to feel them?” he questioned quietly.

Henry jerked. “Huh?”

Derek repeated the question, and gestured down to his belly. “They started a few weeks ago.”

The man looked nervous but nodded shortly anyway, standing up from his seat to approach the pregnant wolf. He looked uncertain of what he was supposed to do, so Derek guided his hands into place. Henry crouched for a more comfortable position and looked amazed.  Derek understood the feeling. The first time he had felt the sharp kick against his skin and his kidney, four awkward beats, he had been torn been flinching and falling into an awed state. It was probably a mixture of both.

“It’s just…” Henry struggled with the word, “…so weird.”

Derek’s lips twitched upward a little. “Yeah, that’s one word for it. Try being on this end.”

The alpha’s son winced. “Uh, yeah, no thank you.”

The lock in the front door clicked when the key turned in it and Stiles’ voice drifted into the apartment as soon as he stepped into the hallway. Henry’s hands slowly drew away. “-measan cheese. They’d run out of spaghetti so I brought the bow kind – they must have an actually name right? – But hey, they were my favourite when I was a kid and pasta is pasta so it should be fine. I brought the cream sauce as well, and some pickles because I know you’re cravings are – _oh_.”

Stiles pulled up short when he stepped into the main room, paper grocery bags looking heavy in his arms. He tried to keep his expression blank, and his eyes darted between Derek and the unknown man – although he could take a wild guess of who it could be – who were standing closer together than Stiles would have liked.

“I didn’t know we were having company,” he continued weakly.

“Neither did I,” Derek shot back.

“I showed up as soon as I heard,” Henry added helpfully, “I’m Henry. Do you need help with those bags?”

“Henry,” Stiles repeated the name quietly, before shaking his head and clearing his throat, “No, it’s fine. I’ve got them. I’ll just…leave you alone to continue you’re conversation.”

“We were done anyway, for now, I think,” Henry replied, glancing between Derek and Stiles. He bent to retrieve his duffel bag and flung it over his shoulder, “I’ve got to go find a motel to stay at anyway.”

“Um, and then maybe you’d want to come back and have dinner with us?” Stiles offered, “I mean, we have more than enough.”

“Well…if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” he nodded in confirmation, ignoring the fact that both the men in the room could hear the lying bleep to his heartbeat.

*

Stiles wasn’t entirely sure why he elected to put himself through that torture. It wasn’t as if he wanted to. If he could pretend that Henry didn’t exist, he would, but the truth was that he couldn’t. It was too late for that. One way or another, Henry was going to be a part of his life and it seemed like too much time and energy that would be wasted on hating him. At least, that’s what his father had said.

“Whatever happens between you and Derek…his guy is still going to be the kids’ parents,” John clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing comfortingly, “You did the right thing by getting Derek to tell him.”

“It doesn’t feel like the right decision,” Stiles muttered.

“It wouldn’t, but it is, I promise you that. A father has every right to know about their children. From there, he can make decision about what kind of parent he wants to be.”

“But what if he wants to take Derek away from me?”

“You know that Derek would never do that. There is nothing that you could do to make that kid stop loving you, alright?”

Stiles had smiled slightly and nodded.

“Good,” John nodded approvingly, “Try getting to know this Henry. You might as well spend your time being civil instead of hating his presence. Besides, you’re going to need to watch out for my grandkids. They don’t need a deadbeat hanging around them. Like they need any more bad influences around them.”

Stiles made a squawked noise of objection.

*

Dinner, surprisingly, wasn’t as bad as both Stiles and Derek had been imagining it would be.

Henry had shown up on time. He’d complimented the food and gone back for third helpings. He’d answered all questions that came his way with honesty and he kept a professional distance for Derek, something that Stiles appreciated. They mostly avoided the subject of the babies or of the heat – a sensitive subject – and instead, they spoke about jobs and hobbies and likes and dislikes.

Stiles found a kindred spirit in Henry because of his love of Batman, something Derek and Scott never really appreciated. He found out that Henry was the eldest of six. He found out that Henry’s day job was a web designer, so he could work from anywhere. He found out that Henry had been a fan of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when he was a kid and had crashed his uncle’s Ferrari when he was 15.

Stiles had wanted to hate Henry, he did, but it was strange how this man was more like him than he was ever prepared for. At least, he thought dryly, Derek has good taste.

It was only when Henry made to leave that maybe Stiles appreciated his presence the most. He hesitated as he made to leave and turned towards them. “I know we’ve been…avoiding this topic but I’ve been wanting to say…I’m the biological father, but you two, you two are the parents. I won’t take that or them away from you.”

Stiles felt his throat close up a little and tried to swallow to widen it. “Thanks…but they’ll be our kids, all three of ours.”

Henry looked surprised for a moment before a genuine smile broke out on his face, and he nodded once, as if in thanks, murmured his goodbyes and departed.

“You didn’t have to do that you know,” Derek told him, when they were finally alone.

Stiles glanced between Derek’s face and then his baby bump. He smiled softly, reaching out to cup Derek’s cheek and then dropping his free hand to his abdomen. He felt the answering kick of the babies. “Yes I did,” he responded simply, “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

*

Derek gasped and shivered under Stiles’ so oh talented hands. He was wrung out and sweaty and barely hanging onto his control. He watched through hooded eyes as Stiles ducked his head and sucked sweetly, his fingers twisting and pistoning inside, stretching him. He moaned loudly, self-control nothing by this point. There was begging, his own although the words were muffled and distance as if coming from somewhere else. Stiles whispered encouragements, praising in his ear and he so desperately wanted to meet them, make him proud, happy, wanting.

His legs were lifted and Stiles slotted himself between Derek’s thighs, his cock prodding teasingly at the lubed hole before pushing slowly past the rim. Derek whined and tilted his head back to rest on Stiles’ shoulder. He had missed this, the feeling of the stretch, of Stiles’ pulsing inside of him, of hot breath on the back of his neck.

Stiles’ thrusts were slow but sharp, as if he was branding Derek as his and was urging Derek to agree with it, coaxing him until he was begging. Not that Derek needed branding or claiming. He knew exactly who he belonged to.

“Mine,” Stiles hissed out in his ear through pained breaths, “You’re mine.” His hand slipped to his stomach, which bounced and moved uncomfortably at every thrust, “These…I may have to share them. But you, you’re always mine.”

“Yours,” Derek grunted out his agreement, as he came all over himself.

*

The introductions to Henry was gradual and he was usually greeted with surprise and suspicion. On more than one occasion, Stiles was asked whether he was okay.  He appreciated their concern, he did, but it did make him feel like he was supposed to be emotional invalid at this time.

None of the pack seemed to know how to treat this man, this stranger that had impregnated their alpha and hurt their friend, but they were civil enough, even if it was just for pack relations. “I hadn’t really expected them to like me,” Henry had told them both with a shrug. Still, Henry stuck it out and Stiles had to congratulating him for that. He didn’t go out of the way to make them like him, didn’t force them to do anything they didn’t want to do. He was just there - at the ultrasound at Deaton’s clinic; doing shopping for the baby; painting the nursery, building the cribs, at the baby shower. Stiles guessed, in the end, everyone just warmed up to him.

“He seems like an alright guy,” Scott shrugged, “But that doesn’t mean I like him.”

At least Stiles still had Scott on his side.

*

Of course, Derek would go into labour at the most awkward of times.

It was during a pack night – well, it was more a boy’s night. Allison, Lydia and Cora were at the McCall house with little Victoria for what Lydia had called the “pre hen night”. Stiles, Derek, Boyd, Scott and Isaac had taken over the living room in their alpha’s apartment to watch movies – they were supposed to be anyway.

“So how you guys thought of any names?” Scott mused.

“Yeah, I mean, Derek’s fit to burst,” Isaac grinned, patting Derek’s stomach gently. The alpha grumbled and batted the hand away.

Stiles grinned. “We have a few, but nothing definite as of yet.”

“Does Henry have any names he likes?” Scott asked, half curious, half uncertain whether he should actually ask.

“He said that he’d leave the naming up to us,” Derek responded, “Apparently, he’s terrible at naming things.”

“He named his dog Terrier,” Stiles supplied, “And we really don’t need a son called Guy.”

Derek snorted loudly and then winced, face screwing up and hands dropping to his stomach. He rubbed the skin soothingly and sighed heavily. Stiles’ face became concerned and he pressed close.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, just…that hurt, I don’t even know what – shit!” he cut off sharply with a curse, eyes clenching shut and bending forward.

“Derek,” Isaac said worriedly.

“Stiles, gets the bag,” Derek bit out the order.

“The bag?” Stiles looked at him with panicked confusion before realisation dawned on him and he scrambled to his feet and took off across the apartment, “Right the bag!”

“Derek, what’s happening?” Scott questioned, the demand clear in his voice.

Boyd whacked him over the back of his head. “Can’t you see? He’s going into labour.”

“What?” Scott panicked.

“Call Deaton,” Isaac ordered, standing up. He helped Derek to his feet and flinched a little when his alpha crushed his hand, “Let him know what we’re on the way. And call Henry. He should be there.”

Boyd drove – the only person who Derek trusted to drive his car - with Isaac in the passenger seat. Stiles sat in the back with Derek, holding his hand tightly, gently encouraging him through the whole thing and trying not to cry at the feeling of bones shifting in his hand. This was definitely going to be Henry’s job, Stiles decided.

Focusing on the breathing exercises, and the cracking of the joints in his hand, kept him from thinking about exactly what was happening. Derek was going into _labour_. In a couple of hours, he was going to be a _father_.

Fuck.

Stiles tried not to panic.  Well, he tried not to let it show that he was panicking. Derek needed him right now, so he needed to be strong. He and Boyd helped Derek out of the car and into the clinic, and Deaton ushered them into the operating room. He ordered Boyd to leave and gave Stiles a list of instructions that kept him busy, distracted.  Henry showed up and took place at Derek’s side, not even flinching when the bones broke.

Stiles helped gather the herbs that would be used as an anaesthetic (a strand of wolfsbane, Stiles remembered Deaton telling him), pulverising it into a paste before layering onto Derek’s stomach and at the base of his spine. He dealt with the pack’s questions and sorted out the soon to be born babies’ clothing to bring into the operation room. He peppered kisses to Derek’s forehead, comfortingly, when Deaton pulled out a scalpel. He wanted to leave, not either sure whether he could take the sight of Derek being cut open, but he couldn’t leave him, so he took to burying his head against Derek’s neck, pressing kisses and muttering praises.

And then, when there was the first cry, followed quickly by another, Stiles felt relief surge through him, the tension dropping from his shoulders and he let out a small breath, a shaky laugh. He lifted his head, and watched, eyes sharp, as Deaton cradled one baby, cleaned and weighed and blanketed before doing the same with the other. He glanced over at Stiles.

“Go on, take your son,” he said softly.

Stiles swallowed and nodded, leaving Derek’s side to reach for the boy, his son. The baby sniffed and stared up at him. Green eyes, flecked with hazel. His Papa’s eyes. Good. He glanced up at Henry, who was standing a little way a way, looking longingly but not really wanting to step forward.

“Do you want to?” Stiles asked lowly, inclining his head towards the baby.

“Yeah, but um, I’ll hold her, if that’s okay?” Henry glanced between Derek and Stiles before preparing his arms for the little girl. She made a noise of distress at the jerky movement but silenced automatically when she pressed against the warm chest. Henry let out a shaky breath. “God, she looks like you,” he directed towards Derek.

“They both do,” Stiles agreed.

“That’s probably a good thing,” Henry added.

“I want to see,” Derek urged them closer, tiredness and wanting clear in his voice. He struggled to sit up properly. Stiles slid closer and presented the man with their son, Henry mimicking the movements on the other side. Derek’s eyes darted between the two babies, and Stiles could see the wonder and disbelief in his gaze.

“You can hold them when the wolfsbane has worn off,” Deaton told him, “It’s probably not safe right now.”

Derek looked disappointed but nodded understandingly.

“Do you want me to bring the others in?” the vet asked.

“Please, tell Lydia to bring the clothes I’m sure she’s swapped my choices for,” Stiles smiled wirily.

Of course, she had. When the pack entered the room, she entered first, all confident and in charge and complaining about how “cheap fabric makes my skin crawl. I refuse to let my godchildren where it”. Henry and Stiles changed them and reluctantly, let them be passed around the pack. Each wolf flashed their eyes and nuzzled at their cheeks, “scent marking,” Scott had explained.

“They’re adorable,” Allison cooed, grinning down at the baby girl.

“Well, they’re definitely Hales,” Lydia added, before snapping a picture on her phone, “I’ll let Peter know that his great niece and nephew were born without a problem.”

“You’re never going to stop with the old jokes are you?” Isaac shook his head.

“It’s unlikely,” Lydia agreed, tapping away on her phone, “But he loves me.”

“You guys haven’t told us their names yet,” Boyd pointed out.

Stiles shared a look with Derek and then glanced at Henry, before sliding back to Derek. “It’s your call,” he stated.

“She’s Isolde Laura Franklin-Stilinski-Hale,” Derek said softly, “And he’s Oscar Johnathon Franklin-Stilinski-Hale.”

“Isolde? After you’re mom?” Scott questioned surprised.

“Franklin-Stilinski-Hale?” Henry repeated quietly.

“You’re their father,” Stiles told Henry firmly, “They should share all our names.”

Henry nodded and smiled.

*

Three years later…

“Derek, have you got them dressed yet?” Stiles shouted up the stairs. The toaster popped and he moved automatically towards, buttering a few pieces of the darkened bread quickly. He poured cereal into a bowl, and orange juice into the glasses and sippy cups, some of the liquid sloshing on to the table.

“Derek!” he shouted again.

There was a crash from above, followed by a low curse and then feet coming down the stairs. Stiles arched an eyebrow when Derek stepped into the kitchen, one giggling child tugged under each arm.

“I know there’s only two of them, but it feels like a hundred,” Derek grumbled. Stiles hummed his sympathy, making his way towards his family. He pressed a kiss to Derek’s lip and then retrieved the twins, setting them into their chairs.

“Dada,” Oscar announced, patting at Stiles’ cheek. Stiles grabbed the hand and blew a bubble onto the skin, making the boy giggle.

“Okay, this morning, we have…rice crispes for Ozzie,” he announced, putting the plate in front of the boy, “And cherrios for Izzie,” he paused, eying her lopsided pigtails, and sighed, “Papa is no longer allowed to do your hair,” he muttered adjusting the style. Isolde grinned up at him toothily.

“I can do her hair just fine,” Derek shot back, grabbing at Oscar’s hand when he unsteadily tried to feed himself, before the milk and wheat dripped onto his clean clothes, and assisting him. “She just wouldn’t keep still.  She’s excited about today.”

“Daddy’s zoo,” Isolde told Stiles seriously.

Stiles nodded solemnly. “Yes, baby, he’s taking you to the zoo. But you need to get your breakfast first, otherwise you won’t get to leave.”

The two year olds eyes went comically large at the thought of not leaving, and opened her mouth eagerly for the cereal. Derek laughed.

“She gets that look from you,” he stated.

“Well, at least she’s got that adorableness to make up for the eyebrows,” Stiles shot back, rubbing lovingly at the lines of hair.

The years seemed to pass so quickly. One minute, the twins were being brought home for the first time and the next, they’d had to move to a bigger house because there wasn’t enough room for everyone and their stuff. Henry had moved into town as he promised, despite his father’s reservations to it, and to his credit, he was there whenever he could and especially when Stiles and Derek needed time to spend as a couple, rather than parents.

Like today.

Henry showed up on time as usual and Stiles went to answer the door whilst Derek got the twins out of their seats. Henry and Stiles shared a knowing look before chubby legs scurried to the door. They jumped at his feet and Henry grinned down at them, dipping so he could scoop them up effortlessly.

“I’ll have them back by bedtime, more than enough time for… _alone time_ ,” Henry arched an eyebrow at them.

“Just keep the sugar to a low, they’ve got a check-up tomorrow,” Derek told him.

“On it,” the man nodded and adjusted his grip on the kids, who laughed even more, “Have a good day. Say goodbye to Papa and Dada.”

“Bye-bye,” Isolde waved.

Oscar made kissy faces at them.

Stiles mimicked his actions and Derek waved with both hands, a small smile on his face.

They waited until the kids had been strapped in and Henry had pulled away from the drive before closing the door behind them, the house suddenly too silent when it had been so hectic before.

“We’ve got until six,” Stiles stated, “That’s at least eight hours.” He turned to look at his love and blinked innocently, “What on earth will we do for that long?”

Derek grinned wickedly. “I’m sure I can think of something.”


End file.
